I continue to pray, Romeo

Here it is, my British, nihilist naturmort, I thought when he opened the doors, but only spat the tedious:
-Hey.
He was silent. Then shortly after taking not the most pleasant bath in my eyes, he began to suck the rest of the content. I started to feel as poorly as his face mimic, which pretty much reflected the ‘eh ‘ rating. He appeared to just have jumped from the bubbly, marble one to a public, covered in mold. Cursed hippocrate, he is not that … OK, I confess this rotter was hollowed out by the God himself, while I, or rather my face, is in the fourth Dante’s hell ravine. Well, you just can imagine the impact I felt after realising the differences of our worlds.
He left me in the doorway and went towards the record player like a goddamn deer… I have never seen a creature more graceful than this one, right before my eyes. In the middle of the process he seemed to remember me and an invitation to come in followed:
– Busy while waiting for a miracle? – Murmured, without turning around.
-What are you, bloody Dorian Gray? – Jealousy has taken the form of words.

The guy turned around and showed puzzled ‘I found myself ambushed’ type of smile. It was better than the 1/8 of a sneezing orgasm. I swear at this time I was going under a criminal case and although I sentenced my heart for a death penalty, the head started to hold forth about democracy and rights, – all the boring dung, which acted as an antibiotic to the electrified hormones.
– Will it be? – Interrupted the inner case to offer a drink.
I took quite some time to digest the information, but did not fail to seem undeterred:
– With the ice. Fill the glass up to the end. – I threw a challenge.

He turned back and showed a slightly different smile, initiating curiosity and again his actions forced me to compare bottle-opening with the Victoria’s Secret show. He kept his gazes on me, I did too. For a second, I forgot to breathe, blink, swallow the saliva and just watched him watching me, that I watch him. He did not stop staring even when the liquid hit one millimeter to the excess point, he just knew when to stop pouring. This man was frighteningly skillful.

– Lynx – he says with a slightly hoarse voice. Me, still being reflex-less creature, tried to understand what this mystical creature is doing on Earth.
– Leo – takes the prepared drink of mine and his own, while maintaining the eye contact and now starts massing towards me.
– Wolf – says, while shoving liqueur, contained in a quite luxurious looking glass, to my face.
– After all, missus asked for an introduction, right? – as if explained the strange string of words and clearly satisfied with his reply he went straight back to the window.

At this point JK Rowling’s world of magic and invisibility cloak, started to slowly disappear and the poison ceased to take over my body. The hormones, gave into the Penal Colony and now only my brain was left on the minefield.

– And you? – His tone suggested the lack of interest in my existence.
– I am Beatrice, but friends call me Deila. – I showed one of the best, sneaky smiles I had in my compartment. Buddy, it takes two to Tango. (lynx, leo, wolf and Beatrice are the characters from Dante’s “Divine Comedy”)

The guy starts to chuckle and I join.

-You read?- He put his guards down.

-A little bit. Dante just happens to be a personal favorite.

– I am surprised that you followed my remarks, but I guess I knew it will go that way when you dropped the character name from Oscar Wilde.

-In fact, before this game of words, I was thinking about the poem and that’s why I seemed undeterred.

-Kevin. Call me Kevin. – Slightly nods his head. Enchanted by his manners I did the same. Then I cursed myself. This man is none other than coquette. Demon closeted in a perfect body. What is his height? It seems roughly about 1.80-1.90 meters, can not exactly handle it from the couch’s perspective. Medium length hair, directed to the back that reminded me of 1984 New York trends. Rather a solid build, and a two-day beard, frowning eyebrows and long eyelashes, so tuned into the French fantasies I usually have. Plump lip tip with clear lines … one of those with pointy ends that kidnaps gaze. He wears a black Armani suit and slightly unbuttoned shirt exposes the delicate collarbone …

He must be joking. Such people should be driven away from the society, they pose a threat to the maintenance of a healthy mind. Coo, am I in traps, coo did the poison actually worked, Romeo?